


Graverobber-x-Reader: The Anatomy of Love

by Fanfictionlover0724



Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-06-25 07:51:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15636417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfictionlover0724/pseuds/Fanfictionlover0724
Summary: You remember seeing everything that happened in the year 2056 at the Genetic Opera, presented by the Largo family company GeneCo. Blind Mag's death, Shilo Wallace leaving and or disappearing after her father's death, Rotti Largo almost leaving Shilo GeneCo, and things were calm a year later...you're 18 and you meet Graverobber, a charming, sarcastic, mature-minded, guy who saw everything else that happened and was practically involved with most of it. You fall for him and he falls for you, but Amber Sweet is out for blood, his blood for "supposedly" ruining her performance at the opera...plus some family feuding that might just stab you in the gut when everything else falls into place.





	1. Chapter 1

You woke up with blurred vision, the pale light in your room is just enough to let your eyes adjust against the darkness outside your window. You sit up slowly as not to overwhelm yourself, gently pulling out the IV in your arm that still contained trace amounts of glowing blue liquid. Sliding on your shoes before wandering down the stairs with a death grip on the railing as you made your way down to the kitchen for something to eat, but in your daze you must have accidentally gone through the front door, because a blast of cold air hit your face and started to wake up the rest of your senses. The night sky was cloudy, save for the bright, full moon that lit up the narrow streets. Seemingly endless walking and navigating your way through the alleys lead you into a graveyard, from behind a headstone you heard clattering noises,

“Who's there!?” you yelled out defensively but quietly.

There were signs scattered about that read ‘GRAVEROBBERS WILL BE EXECUTED ON SIGHT, BY ORDER OF GENECO, BY-LAW NO.653-465’, of course that didn’t pertain to you but more to the voice that whispered from where you heard the noises,

“Besides you, my dear...me.” Replied a husky voice.

Scanning back and forth searching for the voice, you finally spotted a figure huddled over another. A pale man with long, half-tied up hair was leaning over another person...except it wasn’t a living person, it was a corpse. He pulled a glowing syringe out of its nose and removing the glass vial then placing it in a holster on his belt that was secured to his right back-thigh under his long, fur-lapel, leather coat. He was covered with different belts and buckles from what the graveyard spotlights and moonlight allowed you to see, his boots were platformed with seven straps going up to his knees. 

“Y-you’re a graverobber, aren’t you?” You asked with caution, still weary from your induced sleep.

“Graverobber’s the name and the game, sweetheart.” He peered up at you from the corpse, which still had most of his attention.

“Is that Zydrate?” Your eyes widened at the glowing blue liquid in little vials he had on him, exactly the same stuff that was left in your IV tube.

“Yeah, it is...why? You want some?” He asked standing all the way up and stretching his back with a few cracks sounding from it due to lugging heavy bodies around.

“I wouldn’t be able to pay you, but I’m almost out at home…” You shrugged sadly in admittance.

“You have a home supply of Zydrate?” He raised his eyebrow in intrigue.

“Well, my mom gets it from her job.” You reply.

“What is she? A nurse, a surgeon, or a very valued customer of mine I might recognize?” He asked while bending back down to pack up his Zydrate extraction kit. 

“She’s a Gentern…” You replied shyly, starting to lean on a headstone to support your weakening body, your Zydrate high was coming down.

“Wait...did you say a Gentern? Like the ones that hang around and fondle Pavi Largo?” His eyes grew wide along with his smile as he stifled a laugh, “I cannot believe that, I’m sorry.” the laugh broke out, but quiet enough to not be spotted.

“Yeah? Why is that so funny?” You asked with a hint of anger in your voice.

“Have you seen those girls? They are too full of themselves and Pavi to have kids…” Graverobber chuckled deeply.

“Well, mine just happened to have me 18 years ago...so how does that figure?” You crossed your arms smugly.

He placed his gloved finger on his chin thoughtfully and tapped it a few times, actually contemplating the question he was presented with. Shrugging in defeat after a few moments of silence from him and his thoughts, he pulled out one of the vials of Zydrate and handed it to you but pulled back with a pause,

“Since you can’t pay me now, I’ll give you this one but it’s gotta last you till you can pay me, do we have a deal?” He held the glowing vial inches from you.

With a nod and a shaking hand you reached out for it and replied, “How will I find you again to pay you?”

“I’m usually anywhere outside and in graveyards, if you have a window just call out ‘Graves!’ and if I’m close enough by I’ll hear you, ok?” He crooned as he bowed and turned to leave you.

After a slight pause and dream-filled daze of staring at the vial you quickly yelled in a whisper, “Wait!”

He turned with an inquisitive expression plastered on his pale face, “What?”

“I...um, don’t know my way home from here and my mom won’t be home for a while…and I’m kind of alone out here, would you mind helping me get back and maybe chat while we’re at it?” You asked rubbing your arm like a nervous school girl, plus it was chilly and you had on a hospital style shirt with short sleeves.

He raised his eyebrow, then his expression softened as he bowed again but this time he held his arm out, “Be my guest, I have nowhere else to be right now anyway, I’m just resupplying my stock of Zydrate...Amber Sweet has kinda run me dry in the last few weeks and none of my other customers come around due to her, she’s cleaning out my business.” 

You stepped forward and the two of you started walking together through the many graves and alleys the dark, moonlit city had to offer.


	2. Chapter 2

You skipped a little towards him to be a bit closer trying match his walking pace, for someone who is 6” and wearing boots, he could walk pretty fast with his stride. He lead the way through the alleys and you kept a tight grip on the Zydrate vial he had given you moments ago, you had to wait until you got home to use it…(because what’s the point of being drugged up in the middle of a surgery-riddled city...am I right?).

“So, um...how long have you been, you know…” You started to ask trying to break the silence.

“Graverobbing?” He continued your question, “I’ve been at this for about 17 years.” He replied.

“How...how old are you?!” Your expression turned to one of shock as he didn’t look as old as he seemed to be.

“27...how is that surprising?” He had a confused look on his face, while your’s was still shocked.

“I just can’t believe you’re 27...I’m only 18 and how old is Amber Sweet again?” You asked him, “I read about her in the paper last year before the whole opera thing happened about her Zydrate addiction and after when she gained control of Gene Co.” 

“She’s only 24, and yet she has had way more surgeries than I can count. I have a tally somewhere in the city, a whole wall with scratches of how many times she’s come to me for Zydrate whether it be for surgery or just to be numb.” He responded dryly.

Your eyes widened, people used Zydrate to go numb? It almost made you wonder if that’s what your mother used it on you for...after all you had been using it since you can cognitively remember and of course with Zydrate being a mind-numbing pain killer you didn’t remember much of your life besides the fact.

“So, if I’ve been on it for about 18 years? What would that do to me...health wise?” Your voice hinted with concern.

He placed his finger to his mouth in thought, “Well...your pain receptors would be very slow to react to any major injuries, your muscles would be like jello, to which I’m surprised you’re able to walk around without practically falling all over yourself, and you would basically be a zombie mentally.” He counted each thing on his fingers.

“But what if I’ve adapted to it having been on it for so long? Could that be possible?” Your concern grew to curiosity.

“Maybe, but I highly doubt it...Amber is only 6 years older than you, and 3 years younger than me she had her first surgery when she was 13 so...11 years vs. 18, she would be maybe about half as numb to a lot of things as you could be if you had a resistance to the mental effects of Zydrate…” He explained.

You guessed, “Oh...so maybe my mother has been diluting Zydrate?”

“No, there might actually be a reason for that.” He answered with a click of his tongue, “There are technically 2 types of Zydrate.” He raised his finger in the air.

Your head turned sideways like a dog, “You mean the day and night formulas?”

“No, the more potent version comes from Graverobbers like me. We harvest it from the source...do you know what Zydrate really is?” He stopped his explanation with a question.

“No.” You responded simply.

“Well, Zydrate was originally a chemical reaction created by the body when it dies and begins to go into rigor and stiffen up. The brain secretes this chemical all through the nervous system in the form of an out of body experience,” He stopped again to see if you were paying attention while walking.

To say you were merely paying attention would be an understatement, your eyes watched him with adoration at his knowledge of Zydrate and its origins. He got a smirk on his face that radiated with self pride,

“The out of body experience is the 7 or so seconds of memory that the brain utilizes to replay moments of your life before it finally shuts down, that substance that coats the brain and can be extracted by one of these…” He stops walking to reach in his pocket for his tool bag and unwrap it, out of which he pulls out a syringe with a long needle that has a reloadable vial holder. Your eyes widened even more than before and your jaw started to drop in awe, he put the needle back in place and wrapped his tools back up and placed them back in his pocket.

“So, how fresh does the body need to be before the Zydrate becomes unusable?” You were way more than curious now and needed to hear more about the drug like an interested student.

“It doesn’t matter, it comes from the brain directly...when it’s extracted it’s very potent, which is where I was getting to the whole 2 types thing.” He answered, “Now do you want to know the rest or not?” He hissed impatiently.

You nodded and continued walking beside him, trying to keep your focus on his eyes and mouth to absorb all the information he had to offer.

“The surgeons at Gene Co. figured this out by analyzing all the brains of the people who died on the table from their organ failures and had the best scientists try to make a less potent version for the use of Gene Co. patients only, so their version is like the name brand while us graverobbers use the original stronger version for back alley surgeries.” He finished his sentence just as you saw your house getting closer.

You wondered how long you had been walking with him, you know the streets and alleys don’t all connect that easily from one place to another but the walk had seemed both too long and too short to be over. He noticed your attention had been sidetracked when he looked ahead and saw what you were looking at.

“Is that your place?” He questioned.

You nodded agreeingly and looked at him sadly hoping he’d realize you were sad your time together was over. He looked at you and gave a ‘uh-huh’ in acceptance, almost not noticing the sadness in your eyes. He stopped in front of your home and gave you a second vial of Zydrate, “For the road,” he had said.

“I’ll help you quit, if you still want to...but you’ll have to find me on your own time.” He added while starting to walk away.

You had to say something before he left, you liked the company and he gave more than your dear old mother did… 

“Wait!” You yelled to him.

He stopped and turned to listen with a, “Hmm?” 

“Say if I wanted to just hang with you again...would that be ok?” You asked nervously rubbing your arm again like you did in the graveyard.

His expression tinged with curiosity as he tapped his finger against his lips thoughtfully, “Well as I said before, if you want to find me...you’ll just have to yell ‘GRAVES!’ out a window and hope I’m nearby when you do, otherwise I won’t hear ya.” He chuckled in response, “But I guess I wouldn’t be indifferent to hanging with you again, that is if you can get away from this prison long enough to do so.” He pointed his thumb to your house. “At least I can say you seem to be someone interested in what I have to say more than what I have to offer or give.” He added that last part in which made you turn your head in confusion.

You walked up to the door and opened it just enough to peek in and see if your mother was home from work yet (which she wasn't), but also just enough to wave bye to Graves as he walked away and he waved back after using his peripheral vision to see you wave. You walked inside and up to your room and placed the 2 Zydrate vials on your bedside table and then to your window, you cracked it open and whisper-yelled “GRAVES!” holding a childish hope that he heard you since he had probably not gotten far through the nearby alleys. You flopped on your bed with a girlish sigh as you looked to the glowing vials on your table...and for the next few hours, that’s all they did was sit there.


End file.
